


06. Angels

by greywolfheir



Category: Good Omens, Supernatural
Genre: Angels, Two Crowleys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-16
Updated: 2013-12-16
Packaged: 2018-01-04 19:40:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1084945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greywolfheir/pseuds/greywolfheir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel seeks his brother's help</p>
            </blockquote>





	06. Angels

**Author's Note:**

> So I'm basically completely ignoring canon and this has nothing to do with Christmas...sorry. Set during the Supernatural episode Weekend at Bobby's (6.04)

Aziraphale just managed to sit next to Crowley, wineglass in hand, when a bell tinkled, announcing the arrival of visitors. Aziraphale sighed and was about to stand up when Crowley put a hand on his arm.

“Want me to scare them off?” Crowley offered.

Aziraphale bit his lip, only hesitating a moment before he finally relented. “Would you, dear?”

Crowley shrugged and stood up. As he walked towards the door, he heard the customers’—there were three of them, Crowley noted with displeasure—conversation.

“—while you and Sam nerd over some books,” one was saying.

“We’re not here for the books, Dean,” another said in a scratchy, low voice.

“I’m afraid you’ve come to the wrong place, then,” Crowley said as he sauntered in. In a matter of seconds, he examined all three of them. One of them was very tall with long hair. Another had a pretty face despite the fact that he seemed to wear a permanent scowl. The third, shortest one, looked uncomfortable in his body, which interested Crowley. Well, that and the fact that he was looking at Crowley with hopeful eyes.

“Aziraphale?” he asked tentatively. Crowley recognized him as the second speaker.

Crowley tensed and immediately took a step back. There were only a few beings who knew Aziraphale by his angel name, and Crowley didn’t typically associate with the ones who said his angel name in a positive light. They typically didn’t like him either. “Which one are you?”

The two other men looked at each other, but the one who very much wasn’t a man seemed to know what Crowley was asking. “I’m Castiel, the angel of Thursday. You may not remember who I am but I’ve come to—“

The door to the back room slammed open then and Aziraphale burst out, heading straight for Castiel. The two men jumped, grabbing at whatever concealed weapons they had. Crowley, in response, tensed to jump and defend his angel, but Aziraphale only grabbed Castiel into a hug.

“Castiel! Of course I remember you!” Aziraphale exclaimed. He pulled back, still keeping his hands on his brother’s shoulders. “I’ve heard some of the things you’ve been doing over in America. Is everything alright? What brings you here?”

“Everything’s fine…but perhaps not for long,” Castiel responded ominously. “The demon Crowley has Bobby Singer’s soul under contract—“

“Crowley!” Aziraphale said, turning to Crowley with a scolding expression. “You never told me you were making contracts again!”

“Hold up,” the tall man said, “Crowley’s in a devil’s trap in Sioux Falls, South Dakota, and he’s wearing a different meat suit.”

Crowley rolled his eyes. “That bloody wanker isn’t me. Thought he was thinking of a clever name when he turned demon. Still get the bassstard’ssss commendations, though so I can’t complain.”

“I’m assuming you’re associated with this Bobby Singer then?” Aziraphale asked. “How do you propose getting him out of his contract?”

“We need to find his human bones so we can burn them,” the pretty-faced man said. “We know they’re in Scotland but we can’t find them fast enough.”

“Castiel dear, if they’re old enough to be in ancient church ground, they’ll be protected from searching even by angels,” Aziraphale said easily. “And that will be churches with castles nearby. The royals were always so protective in those days.”

“Thank you, Aziraphale,” Castiel said quickly. He raised his hands to touch the foreheads of the two men, but paused. “Brother, why are you in such close company with this demon?”

Crowley cleared his throat and looked away innocently but Aziraphale simply smirked and said, “As far as you know, we were in the middle of a very tense business discussion that you interrupted.”

Castiel took a second but seemed to get it after a second. “Then I’ll…let you get back to it.”

“That would be kind of you, dear,” Aziraphale said with a pat on Castiel’s shoulder. “Remember to stop by more often—I feel as if we have a lot in common.”

Castiel nodded and the three of them disappeared.

Crowley let out a breath and started walking back to the back room. “I hate angels.”

“All angels, dear?” Aziraphale asked, and when Crowley turned around, that smirk was back.

“Oh alright, _almost_ all of them,” Crowley said, returning the grin. “That Michael’s almost got what it takes to be worth something in my eyes…”

“Crowley!”

 

* * *

 

In Scotland, Dean stopped digging Fergus McLeod’s grave for a second to ask, “Sammy, did we just ask a gay angel where to find the bones of a demon with the same name as the demon who may or may not be doing the dirty with said gay angel? Or was that all some dream I had?”

Sam contemplated that question for a second. “Just…keep digging.”


End file.
